


Do You Remember The Start?

by catgrrrl



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angella Lives (She-Ra), Angella is Rescued (She-Ra), Catra has so many mommy issues, F/F, Good Parent Angella (She-Ra), Mommy Issues, POV Catra (She-Ra), Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:08:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28791492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catgrrrl/pseuds/catgrrrl
Summary: (Minor CW for descriptions of violence)The night before Angella is rescued, Catra battles with her anger at Shadow Weaver and her guilt about Angella. Will Catra ever be able to move beyond her past?ORCatra deals with her mommy issues.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Kudos: 32





	Do You Remember The Start?

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfic in like 3 years, but spop has forced me to return. This is kinda a vent fic lmao. Hope you enjoy! No proofreading, we die like Catra (nine times). The titles are based on the song Mental Health by The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die

The night before Angella returned was also the night of Catra's worst nightmare. She dreamt of herself standing tall. Her claws out and her tail swishing as she looked upon the Etheria she had conquered. So many moons ago, this had been a closely held daydream. Now, on this night of fitful sleep in Bright Moon, it brought only horror. She had won, so why did she feel so empty?

Her dream cut to her in the depths of the Fright Zone. The cold metal glinted in the artificial lighting. This was where prisoners were stored, in the gaping cells that lined the walls. In the cell before Catra, a figure shifted.

Catra crouched down. "Do you love me yet?" She hissed.

The figure in the cell did not even move. "Not good enough." Came Shadow Weaver's rasping reply.

The faint whisper of Catra’s consciousness shouted that this was just a dream. This isn’t real. Shadow Weaver is dead, she can’t hurt you anymore. But her dream-self could not – or would not – hear her. Almost before she knew what was happening, the bars of the cell came down and Catra had Shadow Weaver by her throat. Sharp claws threatened to rip the fabric of Shadow Weaver’s clothing as Catra hissed and spat and shook and hurt. Catra needed to hurt. If Shadow Weaver couldn’t love Catra, maybe she should fear her.

“ _Catra!_ ” Back in the waking world, Adora nudged her shoulder.

Eyelids fluttering open, Catra slurred “S’okay, Adora?”

As she grew more aware of her surroundings, she noticed that it was early in the morning. The sun was hardly peering over the Whispering Woods. It was long before they needed to be awake. Catra raised a hand to rub her sleepy eyes and found that she had been crying.

“You were having a nightmare.” Adora said, tenderly brushing a stray hair off Catra’s face. The softness of the gesture made something break and rebuild in Catra’s chest.

“Guess I was.” She paused for a beat and pulled Adora close. Adora complied and melted herself perfectly into Catra’s embrace, legs tangling lazily under the sheets. A purr hummed through Catra’s body. “I’m okay now, though.”

She knew this wouldn’t be enough for Adora. She always worried too much, was too concerned for Catra’s wellbeing. This had frustrated Catra in the past, but now she finds it sweet. Well, sweet and still a little, tiny bit frustrating.

“You can tell me about it later,” Adora murmured, pressing her face into Catra’s neck and letting herself doze off. It was so, so early. Bird sounds sang through the cool and gentle air and soft sunlight peered through the closed curtains. Catra decided to let herself stay awake a few moments longer and take it all in. She wished she could take it all in. Laying in bed, the love of her life in her arms and morning hanging lazy in the air, she wished she wasn’t so filled with anger.

She was so young. So young. Shadow Weaver had taken her in, promised her a home and given her hell. Adora would sometimes talk about what Catra was like when they were young, her small size and wide eyes. Too much wild hair for her small frame to seemingly handle. Catra had few memories of being younger and none of what she looked like. She couldn’t even imagine it. Catra? Small and vulnerable and weak? Never. As far as she knew, she had always been the danger and edges and claws and sharp teeth that she was now trying to file down. But Adora remembered when she first arrived at the Horde. Scared and trusting. Adora remembered her sweet mewls and baby fangs that hardly hurt, even when she bit too hard. Catra used to be so helpless.

The thought made Catra clench her teeth. A child didn’t deserve what had happened to her. She was trying so hard to learn that. It was hard, sometimes, to believe she didn’t deserve it. Especially considering the hurt she had caused.

Glimmer still sometimes cried when Angella was mentioned.

The guilt and shame wracked Catra’s insides, sunk claws into her intestines and squeezed. How dare she take Glimmer’s mother away from her. Sure, there were search parties and plans to try and get her back and Entrapta said they were making progress, but Catra didn’t believe it would work. Catra was convinced she would have to live with this pain the rest of her life. Even if Glimmer promised no one blamed her, Catra couldn’t ignore the glares directed her way whenever they spoke of Angella.

In her rage and shame, Catra slept fitfully that night. In her exhaustion during the day, she almost missed Angella's return.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think. I'm hoping to write some Catradora fics soonish because I'm obsessed with them. Next chapter will be happier, I think


End file.
